• Melissa Eppard is a 46-year-old woman who was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer at the age of 36.
• The diagnosis, double mastectomy, chemotherapy and loss of confidence had a negative impact on her sex life.
• Ten years later, she slowly learned to trust her body.

This essay as told is based on a conversation with Melissa Eppard, co-founder of Upstate Marie. It has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2014, when I was 36, my 3-year-old son was crawling on top of me and accidentally kicked me in the chest. It really hurt me, and that’s when I discovered a a lump on my left breast.

At the time, I was between jobs and I didn’t have health care. I went through the process of applying for health care under the Affordable Health Care Act, but it took me six months to finally get my diagnosis of stage one triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma with an inherited mutation BRCA 1.

Cancer affected my sex life

I was at my new job when my doctor called me to tell me the news. I remember being shocked. I collapsed to the floor and sat on the carpet crying. I only thought about the worst scenarios. I thought of all the people I knew who had died of breast cancer. Will I see my son grow up? How could my husband raise her alone?

That initial trauma to learn that cancer has dominated my life. I was so scared and stressed all the time. Sex was definitely not on the table.

When the time came for my double mastectomyI opted for reconstruction after they removed my breasts and assured me the implants would be safe. Plus, at the time, the options given were only about how I could recreate breast mounds.

I felt deep sorrow every time I looked my chest after reconstruction. It was a reminder of that trauma. I didn’t feel sexy at all.

We hugged and didn’t talk about cancer at night

Immediately after the operation, I began a round of IVF to freeze my eggs, as I had been told I would lose my fertility due to the chemotherapy. As long as I had a uterus, even if my ovaries were removed, I could carry a baby, or someone could serve as a surrogate mother.

When chemotherapy started, I lost all my hair and my periods. I felt incredibly weak, nauseous and tired.

Even though I often didn’t want to be intimate with my husband, I knew that if you don’t use him, you lose him. I knew how important intimacy, not just sex, was to our relationship. Many couples do not survive cancer diagnosis and treatment.

We started slowly, just with a little hug. We made it a rule not to talk about cancer late in the evening – I had to end that conversation so I wouldn’t be triggered.

I rarely felt sexy during these months, which had a huge impact on my confidence during sex. Although sex did not stop during chemotherapy, it was significantly less vigorous and less frequent. Our sex life was hanging by a thread.

I had to become intentional about feeling like myself again

Two years after my mastectomy, I decided to get a beautiful tattoo over my implants. I went from feeling disfigured to feeling rare and exotic. There was no one like me in the world. During intimacy, I could look down on myself and no longer feel horrified or get lost in the trauma again.

My breast implants hurt more and moreso I went back to my original breast surgeon and asked if he could remove the implants and do a cosmetic flat closure in place of the implants. He turned to my husband to ask what he would think and told me he would only perform the surgery for someone with body dysmorphia.

I dissociated in shock that he wouldn’t take my pain and discomfort into account. I found another doctor who operated on me. I was surprised at how much freedom and comfort I felt being flat-chested.

For years, my desire and sex life were like a broken down car. But now it feels like my engine is revving. I would never compare my sex life before cancer to today. It would rob me of the joy of where I am now. I worked too hard to get here and I won’t be stuck crying about what intimacy was like.

I’m still here and my marriage is strong. And I am so grateful.